


A Remington at the end of the world

by Proudnerdqueen



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Original Character(s), WIP, Work In Progress, anyone want to be my beta?, walking dead violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:14:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22576153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Proudnerdqueen/pseuds/Proudnerdqueen
Summary: Enter the life of one Lucy Remington, as she finds herself in Georgia at the end of the world. A midwest Wisconsinite, far away from home and family, and this is her story.
Relationships: Daryl Dixon/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 8





	1. The Beginning of the End

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, this is one of my first few fanfics. And my VERY FIRST TIME attempting a TWD fic. If there are any mistakes or inaccuracies, please let me know. But no harsh commentary please, I'm a depressed and anxious introvert who only has good intentions. If anyone wants to help me by being my beta, please let me know!

At the end of the day, what does it all come down to?   
Survival.  
In this world, the right to live doesn’t exist anymore.  
All you have is the right to die a painful death. What, pray tell, caused this to change from the right to live...the the right to die?  
The End of the world as we knew it.  
Geeks, Zombies, Lamebrains, Fleshbags, Rotters, regardless of what you call them, they were the beginning of the end. We, however, chose to call them Walkers.   
Why? I have no idea, but the name stuck. As to how they came into being? Again, I have no idea. Some say it was a chemical weapon gone wrong, some say it’s from a meteor crash, a plague Mother Nature sent to wipe us out, others say it’s alien spores. And then there are some - though these are few - who think they’re simply people who are sick, and a cure will be found any day. Personally, none of those sound very likely to me.  
But who knows? I never was one for science or numbers. I was simply a librarian before the End of the world. All this was supposed to be just in movies or weird sci-fi books, right? Apparently, wrong.  
I don’t even know how I got to this point in my life, I’m simply a girl from the midwest, Wisconsin if you want me to be precise. So how did I get to be in Atlanta, Georgia at the start of the end of the world? Well, that’s another very good question.  
I always liked to travel, before the end started. I hadn’t gotten very far in my travels, at least not as far as I would have liked. But I wish more than anything that I hadn’t gone on this last trip. Especially because I went all by myself, and especially because I’m almost nine hundred miles away from everything and everyone I’ve ever known.   
But you never know what will happen in life, do you?   
Particularly when it’s the End of the world.  
But I digress…  
Anyways, how did I get almost nine hundred miles away from home?  
I have...or maybe had...(?) a friend who lives (lived?) down south. We were going to meet up, and he was going to show me around the place he grew up. I went ahead of him, so I could do a little exploring before his “tour”. But just my luck, I ended up arriving in Georgia...ONE FREAKING DAY BEFORE THE END. Talk about a crappy hand being dealt, right? But yeah, one day was all I had before things hit the fan.   
If i had just waited to fly with my friend, I would at least have been at home with my (very few) friends and family. Crap, I never did mention my friend’s name, did I?  
Well, his name is Alex, and he’s a bit of a character. And before you ask, no. We’re just friends. He’s not my type, and I’m not his either. And besides, no matter what people say, we’re too much like siblings to be anything else.   
But yeah, if I had just waited three more days instead of flying on ahead, everything would have been so different. But maybe we always end up where we’re supposed to be…or maybe that’s just a pipe dream.   
The whole “fate”, and “destiny” thing. Sorry, I am getting totally off track. Where even was I? That is a very good question...oh yes, we went over how I ended up down south, when I ended up there, and the theories on how the world ended. But did I ever even tell you my name? Whoops. Sorry to whoever is reading my account of the end of the world, I’ve been off my adderall since everything (quite literally) blew up in my face. Get it? Because I was on my way to Atlanta when they dropped the bombs? Ha ha ha...Sorry, I tend to have a dark sense of humor.  
MOVING ON.  
My name is Lucy Remington, and as previously stated, I am - or was - a librarian, but my Dad is - or was? - a police officer before the End. So I’m not clueless about how people react when things go bad. I know about riots, I know some bits and pieces about survival tactics, and I know a little self defense. AND HEY, I’m from Wisconsin, so I know how to shoot a gun, I’ve been doing so since I was seven years old. But they’re too loud for the End. Because while walkers are dumb creatures, they really have good hearing. And a wicked sense of smell, but maybe that’s just because they have to in order to smell anything besides their own stench.  
Again, I’m rambling. Blame the ADD, and lack of prescribed meds at the end of the world. But if you’re still reading up till now, I’m assuming you’re ok with my ramblings. Even if you aren’t, this is my story, and I’m writing it for me...because if I don’t tell my story, who will? Besides, maybe - just maybe - if they find a solution to fix the end of the world, maybe someone can give this journal to my family. But like I’ve stated before, who knows if I still have any family left out there? Anyways, I think I’ll end my first entry with this...If anyone is reading this...take this to heart.  
Stay fast.  
Stay aware.  
Stay alive.


	2. The Adventure in Atlanta

Ok, here is my second entry of my account of the End. Or maybe this is just me journaling random crap in order to keep some semblance of my sanity? Either way, this is my story.

After the End started, with the dead coming back to life and trying to eat us and everything, I was caught up in the crowds that were heading to Atlanta. I knew it was a bad idea, not just because I know how crowds tend to react when the world goes to crap, but also because of a gut feeling. And no, this wasn’t just your average day anxiety stomach twinges. 

This was full blown instinct, premonition, foresight, or whatever you want to call it. I knew it wasn’t going to end well, and sure enough...it didn’t. That was the night they dropped the bombs in Atlanta. Now, I’ve always been one to trust my instincts, because nine times out of ten, they’re right on the money. However bad the fall out of being stuck in that gridlock, it ended well enough though. I went along with a group that had formed from people who were smart enough to get off the streets as quickly as they could after the light show. 

The one who took charge of the group was a Sheriff’s Deputy. I had already clocked him as a cop, he wasn’t being very subtle about it. But it was good to know that even at the end of the world, my instincts and observations were still on point. However, just because he was a LEO, doesn’t mean I trusted him beyond what was necessary. There was just something off about him, something unsteady...like the right push in the wrong direction and he would explode, taking those around him down with him.

I hoped this once, my observations would be wrong...but I guess we’ll see about that. Anyways, after our group formed, gender roles were quickly put in place, much to my annoyance. The men had the guns, the men were the lookouts, the men attempted and failed miserably at hunting. 

And the women? We were delegated to the cooking, the cleaning, and the laundry. Thankfully, I was smart enough to keep a gun tucked away in my stuff. You never know when you’ll need it, even if just for the shock factor. Guns are great, and might be a saving grace in the End, but they are loud...and noise draws the walkers, and with the walkers, comes death...ours or theirs.

But the camp was about to get a wakeup call in the form of two crass rednecks, the Dixon brothers. Somehow, they had stumbled upon Jim’s crappy attempt at hunting, and snagged a big buck. And the rest, as they say, is history.   
Our new normal was Merle Dixon being a douchebag to everyone, while getting doped up whenever he wanted, which made him an even bigger douchebag, and then Daryl Dixon doing all the hard work of hunting and cleaning his kills. Now, Merle was a pain in neck, but he was tolerable for me, because I didn’t let him walk all over me, but I also knew when to leave things be. Not sure how I feel about this, but it led to Merle being a little chummy with me, and his “nicknames” for me weren’t anywhere near as bad as the ones he had for the other females of our group.

And Daryl? I was just jealous of his being able to go wherever he wanted without people putting up a fuss. I might not have that many walker kills under my belt compared to the Dixons, but I had just as many - if not more - than Shane, who was another pain in the neck. He’s been giving me the creeps more than usual lately. He’s more overbearing, controlling, and his temper is shorter each day. Last time I went scavenging in the woods for edible vegetation and to check some of Daryl’s traps in the woods, there was a showdown of epic proportions. And by that, I mean I still have no backbone at the end of the world, and he walked all over me and I simply slunk back to my tent like the wuss that I am. 

Hey, life is hard enough when you’re medicated for your anxiety and depression. When you run out of your meds, and its end times? Yeah, talk about a bad break.  
Merle wasn’t much help, he just chewed me out for letting Shane give me a verbal smackdown. Did I mention that I was the lucky duck and the Dixons took up camp right next to me? Yeah, imagine having Merle within fifty feet of you for most of the day. Daryl wasn’t that bad, he was pretty quiet around me, at least in the beginning. 

Moving on a bit further down the line in my story...after awhile of being delegated to womanly duties for a week or two, I was finally able to prove myself enough that I was able to go on runs with Glenn without too much of a fuss. Oh yeah, let me talk about Glenn Rhee for a moment. He’s a sweet goofball who somehow always has something to joke about. Which is good for him, even if he doesn’t always appreciate my brand of humor, which tends to be a bit darker. Still, he’s someone you can talk with, and he doesn’t see me as a fragile and bothersome female like most of the other guys do. But let’s get back to my story.   
We were running low on some medicine and other general items, so a group of them volunteered to come with Glenn and I. 

Now, before this, it has always just been the two of us in the city. We were quiet, we were quick, and we were efficient. But no, Shane just had to tempt fate by making us take a group of morons with us. Andrea, Jaquie, Morales, T-Dog, and Merle came with us. Now Merle isn’t a moron all the time...just when he’s high out of his gourd. I had taken him aside to ask him to leave the drugs behind, because I told him he needed to have my back, that I didn’t trust the others not to be stupid when push comes to shove. 

Or at least, I had intended to take him aside and ask that of him.   
Shane, however, was so gung-ho about us getting a move on, that I didn’t have the chance.  
And because I didn’t have that chance, that’s how we ended up on a rooftop in the city, with Glenn talking to some idiot who got himself stuck in a tank, surrounded by walkers.


	3. Hell in a Handbasket

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens on the rooftop, and how things go to hell in a handbasket super quick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think in the switch of the POV. Do you like it this way more, or do you prefer if the rest of the story is told more like Lucy's journal entries? Let me know what you think of the dialogue, that's where I struggle the most.

Now, up till this point Lucy had decent feelings towards Merle Dixon. Not in the way that she like-liked him, but in the way that she could put up with him - have a conversation with him without plotting his murder - and she didn’t mind him that much. She even thought that he was a decent person underneath all his crap, but knew without a doubt that he needed a crap ton of therapy and some anger management classes. At least, she did have slightly fond feelings for the older Dixon brother...until he made the stupid decision to start shooting the walkers out on the streets, therefore letting the dead in all of the city know where they were. 

As they all scrambled to get back up to the roof, Lucy couldn’t help but feel an irrational anger towards Shane Walsh. If he hadn’t pushed them to make the run so quickly, she would have been able to have Merle leave the drugs with the rest of his stash. But because she didn’t get that chance, the older Dixon brother was stupid and might end up getting them all killed. Once they reached the top, Lucy knew it was going to hell in a handbasket as soon as T-Dog opened his mouth. Because of course it’s a rational decision to call a redneck, who’s high off his gourd, and has a loaded weapon, that he is crazy. Lucy rolled her eyes toward the heavens, and prayed for patience with these morons. 

Everything got progressively worse, as Merle got worked up more than he already was, and started beating on T-Dog. Now, T-Dog should have known better then to try to be all alpha male with a Dixon. But then Merle should have kept the racist comments to himself, or better yet, not been a freaking racist in the first place! But ‘If wishes were fishes’, and all that. But Lucy knew she would have to intervene before someone got themselves shot.  
“Hey Merle,” she called out above the others, “I know T-Dog is a pain in the neck, but he’s really not worth a bullet when it could be used on a walker.”  
Merle looked up at her with a crazed grin on his face, and got off of T-Dog to pull out a handgun. “Now, you might be right there, sugarlips! But he still needs to be taught some manners!”  
When everyone backed up at the sight of the gun, Merle went on a rant about how he was in charge now, that this was a democracy. Yeah, it’s not a democracy when you have to vote for someone because there is a freaking gun pointed at you! ‘Freaking rednecks and their drug problems’, Lucy muttered under her breath.  
“Merle, you know that this is more trouble than it’s worth. It’s a horrible thing to be in charge of people, I would rather be a minion any day than go through that trouble!” She knew she hadn’t really gotten through to him, but at least Merle was starting to put the gun away.

And then the idiot from the tank - who she had found out was really a sheriff, and not just dressed like one - made a stupid move. He smacked Merle over the head with the back of his gun, and then handcuffed the redneck to a pipe. “Who the h*** are you man?!”  
“Officer Friendly. Look here, Merle Things are different now. There ‘niggers’ anymore, and no dumb-as-sh** inbred white trash fools either. Only white meat and dark meat. There’s us, and there’s the dead. We survive this by pulling together, not apart.”  
“Screw you man!” Merle really wasn’t happy about being called white trash, and Lucy wasn’t happy with it either. 

But then after more talking, the sheriff noticed the leftover traces of drugs on Merle’s face. And Lucy could understand why in the spur of the moment, the sheriff would throw the remaining drugs from Merle’s pockets over the edge of the roof. But really though, they could have used that if a medical emergency came up. ‘Would have been a heck of a pain killer’ Lucy thought to herself. But she really did know the sheriff was a good guy, her gut instincts could tell her that much, he just happened to have cuffed one of the few people she liked to a freaking roof. And he better have the keys to those cuffs, or else she’d set Daryl after his a**. 

Now, as they were discussing the origins of ‘Officer Friendly’, Lucy made her way over towards Merle. Strangers tended to make Lucy uneasy, and the only people from the camp that she really knew and kind of trusted, she could count on one hand. And those few people were Glen and the two Dixon brothers. And no matter how crass or abrasive Merle was, she knew he wouldn’t hurt her. The others, however, were probably fair game to him. So Lucy figured she would keep an eye on the troublesome redneck while the others tried to figure out how to get out of the city without being munched on.

“Merle, you really know how to be the life of the party, don’t you?” She said as she sat down next to the disgruntled Dixon.  
“Well hey, sweetcheeks, at least things are never boring when Ol’ Merle is around!” Lucy just rolled her eyes at him and pulled out her bottle of water so he could have a drink. It was hot as heck, and looked a little overcast. Hopefully it would rain, they could use it to cool down a little, what with all these hotheads.  
Lucy knew that they were drawing the eyes of the others as they sat and talked to each other quietly. And Lucy would bet her last stick of deodorant that she knew who would be the first to comment on it.

“How can you be so chummy with the man who tried to shoot us?!” Yup. Sure enough, it was Andrea who was the first to say something. Lucy took a moment to breath in, hold it, and then let it out, before replying to the other woman. “Andrea, I know Merle was an a**,” Merle grumbled quietly at that statement, “but it doesn’t hurt anyone to make sure he doesn’t get heatstroke. Besides, this whole thing wasn’t completely his fault anyways.” As soon as those words left her mouth, the other members of their group started bickering at her, while ‘Officer Friendly’ simply hung back to observe.

Lucy quickly stood up and took a few sharp steps toward them. “If T-Dog hadn’t been yelling at him and calling him crazy, Merle could have been reasoned with. If Morales wouldn’t have been patronizing, I could have talked to Merle. And if Andrea wasn’t egging everyone else on, I would have a handle on the situation!’ Lucy heaved a sigh after her tangent. “Basically, if you would have taken just a moment to let me deal with it, none of this would have escalated.” Officer Friendly walked towards them then, and took control of the group once again, and brought their attention back to the problem on hand, getting out of the city alive.


End file.
